


Halloween

by TheRittyRatQueenSiv



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Bathroom Sex, Dumb bs, Dysphoria low key., F/M, Happy Holidays bop I wrote this for you because I know we need more OTGW fanfiction, Modern AU, Probably a little out of character but oh well, Self-Indulgent, Wirt isn't gendered, college party, i didn't edit this sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28330077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRittyRatQueenSiv/pseuds/TheRittyRatQueenSiv
Summary: Written as a Christmas gift for Bop, 2020.Sara and Wirt go to a Halloween party at Sara's college, and Wirt is a simp. This isn't edited and I'm dyslexic so sorry for that.
Relationships: Sara/Wirt (Over the Garden Wall)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

Wirt had gone to one (1) party in highschool. It was the October of his senior year, and he only remembers half of it. He remembers stepping into the overly lavish house, Funderberker being a dick, the awful taste of beer, and running from the cops with his girlfriend in Jason Funderberker’s mother’s lingerie.  
When Sara told him that they would be going to a Frat party when he came up to visit for Halloween, he had low expectations. Sure, the high school party was fine in the end. He was surrounded (mostly) by friends the entire time, and the only person who made him feel unwanted ended up eating his nasal words at the end of the night. This party could be significantly better.  
Or significantly worse.  
Better because no one knew about his life in high school here. Everyone knew him as Sara’s long-distance boyfriend from high school. As a creative writing and history double major (God, everyone always had an opinion on his majors. He didn’t know what he was doing after college either, so stop asking.) It was a clean slate. He had never met these people, and honestly, would probably never see them again. And there was some freedom to that, wasn’t there? It was like for once he was a breath of winter air after a long hot, heart-wrenching summer. He could be anyone. A poet. A lover.  
A Pilgrim-  
On the opposite end of the spectrum though, he had one person he knew there. Sara. Sara is a social butterfly, who loves a good time, and won’t leave his side even for a minute. She was perfect like that. His fearsome protector, the girl who would get so frustrated she’d cry when people hurt the people she loved. But she would have to babysit him all night. Take care of him, keep an eye on him. She would have a better time without that added factor.  
“You’re overthinking it, babe,” Sara said as she got ready for the event. It was already 11:30, and he already felt drowsy. He was laying on her twin size bed, switching between Instagram and petting Henry, Sara’s emotional support cat.  
“Probably.”  
And she rolled her honeyed eyes at him, and he could only give a small smile. “I know we’ll be fine. I trust you.” And he did. He trusted Sara with his.. everything. She was the net under the tightrope, the harmony in his accompaniment, the sun above his horizon. He lost his virginity to her, confided in her with his deepest fears, she was the reason he even applied for out of state school despite it being so far from her and his brother.  
“Well, don’t wig yourself out in the next thirty minutes. Colleen is gonna walk with us to meet up with her Sisters. Do you have your ringer on?”  
“Yes- do you have your DD bracelet?”  
“Yeah, it’s in my shoe so I don’t forget it.”  
Sara had decided that, much like the first time Wirt drank, she would stay sober and look after him. She said she’d stay sober in case his panic level went above a seven and he needed to go home. He was grateful.  
When Sara was done with her makeup, she stalked over to the bed where he lay, pushing her hands through his hair. She looked great- the theme of the party being a classic costume party. Sara’s group of friends decided to go as Midsommar characters, so she was donned in a flowy white dress with messy hand-painted runes and details on it. Her hair was braided, dawned in a flower crown filled with bright poppies and tufts of Queen Anne's lace. She looked beautiful, be it in the yellow dorm light or the fluorescence of the bathroom behind her. She was radiant, an ethereal picture in front of him, and he was so desperately in love with her.  
“What are you looking at?” She asked him, flicking his nose.  
“You.”  
“Sap.” And it was his turn to roll his eyes.  
He would be coerced into wearing something similar, just as pants and a billowy shirt. He was informed that only one of the boys would have a flower crown in the group, and the other one would be dressed in a bear suit. Wirt had never seen the movie personally, but when Sara pulled him into the small dorm bathroom for pictures, he couldn’t help but smile. May he actually did decedent in the costume department, despite being thrust into it all.  
They walked with Sara’s roommate before making the trek to Kappa Omega Kappa, where Wirt would be properly introduced to Sara’s group of college friends.  
And just like that- they were out into the brisk cold of October. It was the perfect time of year. The leaves were stunning shades of reds and yellows, a few stubborn trees still clinging to green. Greg would be having his first high school homecoming this same weekend. He and his group of friends were probably just getting home instead of just going out. It was closing in on midnight, and Wirt hadn't stopped getting picture updates from his mom since 7:30 when Greg left for the dance.  
They talked about the average coming of age things as they walked to the frat house. Colleen walked in front of the couple grumbling about someone in her biology class, Sara’s arm around his as they walked. He found it hard to believe it looked inconspicuous to onlookers, gaggles of college kids dressed up and walking to the same place. Everyone had to know what was happening. Perhaps it was just something everyone knew but didn’t really talk about.  
It was a short walk, ten minutes tops, and then the relatively normal-looking house came into view, the only thing betraying its normality being the three big greek letters in the lawn, hastily painted and surrounded by pumpkins.  
Getting in was an experience altogether. As soon as we got to the door, a girl in a stark white dress and overly sized shades proclaimed. “Show me your PP”. Wirt was flabbergasted, not quite sure what was being asked, but Sara was unphased, pulling out her keys and flashing her school I.D. to the girl before they were rushed in.  
The floors were sticky, and under his feet, a bass rumbled.  
In the living room, Colleen was dropped off with her other sorority sisters, and Wirt was introduced to some of Sara’s closest friends.  
Lucus was a lacrosse player and had chemistry with Sara. He was easily two heads taller than Wirt, but his smile was comforting and he made sure Wirt always knew someone was listening when he talked. Kevin and Natalie were theater majors, also dressed in white, but Kevin was wearing a bear costume of sorts, and he looked like he was itching to dart away from the group to dance. His girlfriend only laughed, before inviting Wirt and Sara to the basement.  
“Basement is dancing-'' Sara clarified. “Middle is party games, and the top floor has Lucus’s room, where we can listen to music and vibe.”  
Wirt honestly wanted to take the third option, but he knew as soon as he had a space to settle, he wouldn’t find it in him to leave. “Let's play a drinking game to start off.” He offered, and she grinned wide at him, nodding. “Hell yeah, head first!”  
The first floor of the frat house confused the hell out of him. It was surprisingly barren in the hallways, yet every room and open space was packed with people. He could make out four main spaces on the first floor, aside from the bathroom. A kitchen, where most of the space was taken up by a pong table. The living room, where a game of cards against humanity was happening, the entranceway, and the patio where people chanted things he couldn’t quite make out. Sara led him through the halls with ease until they ended up in the kitchen, where a pumpkin-flavored beer was pushed into his left hand, a ping pong ball in the right.  
He wasn’t very good at first, and honestly, wouldn’t have been any good by the end if it weren't for Sara. Halfway through, she got tired of his overly stiff wrist, and tendency to bounce the ball before getting it in the cup. She slid her arms around his own, helping lead his wrist and help him from. Wirt felt himself flush hot at the attention, and it didn’t help that he could feel every part where he and Sara touched. He wasn't normally one for PDA, but knowing that it was Sara and that he’d probably never step into the frat house, he didn’t really care.  
“Ease up, you're too tense,” Sara said into his ear, helping him aim. “It’s all about the follow-through, right?” And with a few more tosses with her, he started to get the hang of it, arcing a ball into the obnoxious red cup.  
“Hell yeah! Nice job babe!” And he was pulled into a half hug as she pressed her lips to his cheek. He grinned, pulling her closer for just a second more before she took the next toss. In the first round, they had their asses handed to them, Wirt wouldn’t lie. But by game three, Wirt was feeling pretty confident, and not so sober.  
“I wanna dance-” Wirt proclaimed, after his and Sara's victory, body warm and gently humming. “Yeah?” Sara asked, her eyes surprised but her smile unwavering. “Then what are we doing up here?”  
The floor of the basement was sticky, and Wirt inwardly cringed at the feeling under his shoes. A mix of alcohol, weed, and sweat seemed to attack his nose all and once, but he had no time to linger on it because Sara was pulling him to the dance floor.  
He didn't know the song, nor how to dance, but Sara seemed to have it down pat. She mouthed along to the words, grabbing his hands in some attempt of leading. He may not be the best dancer, but he could keep a beat. After a few songs, his hands dropped down to her waist, and her own locked behind his head, jostling to the beat, moving how they could among the crowd.  
She was magnificent, honestly. With her eyes brighter than the stars, and the way she made breathing seem easy. She fit among the crowd, but she was the only thing he could see. Her braids had gotten a touch messy, her flower crown still on top of her head. She may not be able to dance, but she sure as hell could. Her hips moved smoothly, and she had no fear of how others would see her, whether it be jumping, spinning, or some dance move his mother would go red in the face looking at.  
“Wirt! Sara”  
It was Natalie, coming with two cups of water, and Kevin behind her, himself holding two drinks. “Hydrate before you die-darte man. You’re killing it out there.” He knew the other woman was just humoring him, but he and Sara happily knocked back the water. “Thank you-” Natalie only winked, grabbing one of the beers from Kevin and handing it to him. “Sure thing bud. Just try to keep up.”  
The four of them danced for a while, the two girls having a blast and the two boys watching awestruck.  
Wirt was a lucky guy.  
“So-” Kevin yelled over the music. “History and Creative Writing huh?” And Wirt gaped, taking a long sip of his new drink.  
“Yes-”  
“That's so cool man- what’s your time period. Every history major has a time period they’re weirdly into. Is it world war two?”  
“No-” Wirt supplied, relief flooding him when it wasn’t a criticism of his life plan. “It’s early America. Around 1800-1900. I’ve been researching the history of my hometown, actually.”  
Kevin was probably only catching every other word, but his smile was genuine and he only asked Wirt to repeat a few words.  
“That's cool man. As a theater major, I salute you. Not enough brain cells for that.”  
And Wirt found himself laughing along with the other boy, until Sara pulled on his wrist, ready for the next dance. 

But two am, he was four drinks in, and horribly out of breath. His chest heaved, and his cheeks were warm. His clothes felt like they clung to him, and after scanning the crowd for an out he called out to his girlfriend.  
“I’m gonna take a breather!” He called out, and she nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”  
“You better! If you’re not back in 5 I’ll come looking.”  
And on an impulse, Wirt pressed his lips to hers, for just a moment. She already got her PDA in before, and it was his turn to surprise her in turn. His mission was accomplished because when he pulled away her own cheeks were flushed, and she smiled at him like he had the whole world.  
Pushing past the crowd wasn’t too hard, but navigating to the nearest bathroom took some time. It was small- no bigger than a walk-in closet, the sink and toilet parallel to each other. Wirt could see four people in here max, and even then it would be tight.  
He switched the light, the floor essence blinding him compared to the dark and dimness of the basement’s black lights. He took a breath and washed his hands from the seat that had gathered there, putting the toilet seat down and taking a seat to rest his feet and knees. God, how did he not notice the minor throbbing until now?  
He pulled out his phone, looking through the latest batch of snap chats from Greg, that had him all dressed up in his suit, friends dancing in their high school gym. He clicked through the videos of the gym floor filled with dancing high schoolers, until the last one was Greg back at their family home, smiling wide with the caption ‘had a blast.’  
He shook his head with a small smile, finding it ironic that he and his brother had similar nights, if not just different locations, and hopefully, age-appropriate drinks on Greg's side. He never went to his homecoming dances until senior year, and even then, they weren't really his thing. He was glad his brother was having a better time.  
Wirt slid the phone back into his pocket before going to splash some water on his face, ready to head back into the crowd. As he reached for the door, it twisted on its own, Sara’s familiar face peeking in.  
“Oh- thank god it’s you. I knocked and didn’t hear an answer.”  
She had ditched the flower crown and had it wrapped around her wrist so as not to lose it, as she pushed in and went to splash her own face. “Are you doing okay?”  
She asked, and even though her tone was light, he could tell she was worried. She knew this wasn’t his normal scene, and she wanted to make sure he was having a good time, and he was, honestly. He didn’t do stuff like this at his own college, mostly just went out with his friends to coffee and lunch- their campus was too small to have a big nightlife. But he was having fun.  
“Yeah, I’m good. I got caught up looking at Greg’s Snapchat” Sara perked up at that, going to his side as he pulled out his phone, already knowing she’d want to see the pictures. Greg had specifically asked Sara for advice on what color tie to wear, and she was more than happy to give all the help she could. “He looks great! I’m glad he had a good time.”  
Wirt flipped through a few more messages, ignoring them for the morning when Sara nestled under his arm. She fit so perfectly. Not just physically, she balanced him in so many ways. Took him out of his comfort zone, but was already ready to console him if something went wrong. When he was collected, she was fiery and passionate. She cared for his little brother, she encouraged him to go to his dream school. She was his rock.  
“What are you thinking about over there?” Sara teased, and he blushed, caught in his head. “Sorry- What did you say?”  
She only shook her head. “Nothing. Are you ready to go back out?”  
He looked around at the crummy frat boy bathroom and the door. Outside of it was still the loud music, the smell of sweat, people. Here, even if it was small, it was just him and Sara, just for a second.  
“Not just yet.”  
And he leaned in half way, only for her to meet him. Kissing Sara was one of his favorite things, something he could think about forever, something he could compose albums upon albums about. Her arms found their way around his neck, just like they did on the dance floor, his own arms wrapping around her middle and pulling her closer. His lips were chapped, and he could feel her lip gloss against his lips, something shimmery that tasted like the color pink. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Without her constant smile and support. Even at her worst, she made him his best. Sara pulled back, just to pull him closer as she shifted to sit on the sink, locking the door behind him.  
“What are you thinking about?” She asked against his lips, always able to tell when he drifted away from the moment and into his head. “You.” He said without a moment of hesitation, something he normally wouldn’t admit so freely. But she (and probably the lingering effects of alcohol) had a tendency to do that to him. He kissed her again, his hands sliding up her waist and tickling her ribcage, touching her as if she would break. “How lucky I am. How I can’t imagine my life without you. How I’m so happy that I get to have you in my life not just as a lover, but as a best friend.” She shivered under his touch, and pressed into his hands, dragging him closer. “Wirt,” She breathed, suddenly shy. “That’s some sappy shit right there.” And he kissed her again and again.  
“That's what you do to me. You make me soft.”  
She runs her fingers through his hair, and he kisses her deeper, her chin tipped up. He is hardly ever taller than her, with her already being a few inches taller than him, excluding her shoes. His hands move from her waist, up her sides, tracing up her ribcage with his fingers before cupping her face in his hands. “I love you.”  
“I love you too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bathroom sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut we've been waiting for. As I was writing this, I got SO embarrassed about wirt getting head, so his genitals aren't described with gendered terms. Fill in the gaps you wish to see and all that. Sorry it's more poetry than sex but I haven't written smut since high school, and it was a Lorna X Bill Cipher fic. (we don't have to talk about that tho.) Still no proof reading I've accepted defeat from the spelling gods.

When Wirt lost his virginity, he was 16. Wirt also told Sara he loved her on that very same night- but that was not the point. He had been so nervous that day, trying to make it something picture-perfect. It wasn’t Sara’s first time, but it was his, and sue him- he was a romantic at heart- he wanted it to be special. By the time it rolled around he was so keyed up and anxious that it took a good hour or two to get him back to normal. Sara had talked him through it, reassuring him that it didn’t matter if the first time was magical or not, he could lie and tell the story of the next time. She was gentle as she worked out all of the folds and creases of his anxiety until he was compliant in her hands, adamant to make it work. When it was all said and done, they were curled up in his twin size bed back home, legs tangled together. She was dozing- and he hated the fact that he couldn’t let her stay the night, but she had to get home before it got too late and her dad called.   
He looked at her and his hideous cowboy bed sheets, and suddenly the world fell into place. The first time since he woke up in the E.R, worried about his little brother and a man with a lantern. He had said it so fast, so quick and quiet that he was worried that she didn’t hear him. Sara opened her eyes and looked at him. She really looked at him, and he felt seen.   
“I love you too.”  
The fact that she was giving him the same look five years later under much different circumstances baffled him.   
“Really?” He asked, trying to push down his blush. “This is the moment you appreciate me most? When I’m dressed like a cult member, surrounded by two in one bar soap?” She loses it then, her laugh bursting from behind her hand as if she could push it down.   
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen drunk Wirt. When was the last time, Easter?” He gives her a pointed look, remembering last Ester vividly. Wirt’s mom decided to invite their extended family for Easter, so Wirt could bring his “plus one” if she didn’t already have plans. They stole one of the extra bottles of wine and drank from the bottle as they caught up about how the semester was going. It was the first time they saw each other since winter break had ended, and he would have rather been cooped up in a small room alone with her, then out in the crowd of his family.   
She had kissed him senseless in that bathroom, too.  
“Yeah,” He agreed, heat spiking and spreading up his face. She wore a dress to that as well, with her big bomber jacket. He remembers just holding her for the first few minutes they were together, and he finds himself pulling her closer, burying his face in her neck. She smells like sweat and makeup, but underneath sweet rain and cucumbers. He presses his lips there, soft and sweet, and she sighs. She’s sinking against him, her hands resting on his shoulders.  
He whispers against her skin, and she hums. Last Easter, he had enough liquid courage and pent up longing from busy weeks to push her dress above her hips. It was the first time he had taken the initiative like that, and it was definitely the first time they had done anything more than heavy petting outside the bedroom. Sara rarely wore skirts and dresses, so it was always exciting when she did. He appreciated a good skirt and dress. Everyone looked good in them- Sara especially.   
“You ate me out in that bathroom,-” She says, voice soft nails biting into his shoulder just a bit. Great minds think alike and all that. Perhaps her own train of thought wasn’t so far from his.   
“didn’t you?”  
“Yes, I did.” He’s surprised his voice doesn't shake more at the affirmation, suddenly far too warm under his clothes. He wrote poetry about it for weeks after. Scribbles in a journal so far back in his closet that you’d find every other skeleton first. They were for him, and him alone- he was still too shy to show them to Sara.   
“It was a very nice time.” her voice breaks his trance, her body shifting under his hands, making herself more comfortable on the sink edge. “I’d love to return the favor sometime.” He’s been. Interested since she came into the bathroom, but her talking about it so flippantly has piqued his interest far more than he’d like to admit.   
Intimacy was normal between the two. Or at least it felt normal to him. When they had been together as teenagers, only a 10 minute bike ride down the street, it had been frequent sure. Since being long-distance, whenever they had the chance to catch up talking, they tried to get a moment alone for that physical closeness. But after all these years, Wirt still finds himself nervous and awkward when it comes to sex. Especially when it’s his very attractive girlfriend asking if she can go down on him. He should be ecstatic and filled with butterflies, but the fluttering in his stomach feels more like moths.   
But her hands have found their way back to his hair, combing softly as he pulls back and cups her face. He doesn't know how she does it. She looks at him, patiently, not moving any further than they have gotten. It’s new territory, even if it’s a modified version of something they’ve already done. The eyes he looks into won't judge him if he says yes or now, and he is overwhelmed with the amount of love in his chest.   
This time when he kisses her, there's a sense of urgency. There’s refreshed enthusiasm that has Sara laughing on his lips, and it only makes him laugh with her.  
“Sure, Why the hell not.” He’s safe with Sara, and she is safe with him.   
She lets out a whoop of delight, jumping down and wiggling out of his arms to make sure the door is locked. Wirt tries to fix his hair in that time, but it’s all in vain because she runs her hands through his hair as she kisses him again, hands moving down his neck and his arms. His hands rest on the sink with white knuckles as she moves down his body.   
He is burning the moment she starts, from her graceful hands moving over his hips, nails tickling the tops of his thighs. He will never get used to the look of it, the feel of it, and he suddenly is that 16 year old boy losing his virginity all over again. She must notice the tension in his body, because she pinches his thigh, getting his attention. “Earth to Wirt.” She calls, and he’s looking down at her and it’s suddenly too much. He bends down to kiss her, a bit clumsy, but anything to get the attention off of him for a moment. She pulls him down by his neck, and he doesn't care that he’s on the ground of this frat-boy-bathroom if it means he can touch her. It takes a moment, and they are a tangle as she sits on his thighs, pushing his pants up and over to her hips.   
If he is a poet who works with his mouth, she is an artist who works with her hands. He kisses her, and kisses her as her hands work him over, making his eyes close and heart flutter. She knows his body well, better than he does even, and he’s gasping in her mouth hardly after a minute, but time may not be on their side, so perhaps it's for the best that he’s suddenly a puddle. With a twist of her hand, he is both the spark and the candle, and with her gentle laugh against his lips, he feels as if he is Icarus. The coil in his abdomen curls tight and hot, limbs fuzzy.   
With one hand he reaches for her own, and as his spine lights up like a Christmas tree, he pulls her closer and lets his own hand move her dress aside.  
She is something spectacular, warm beneath his hands- a constant ray of warmth. It consumes him, and he lets his fingers glide over her in familiar patterns. He’s probably more clumsy than most, he may not feel drunk, but the way his fingers seem to buzz tells him another story. She’s sighing against him, and he moves his mouth to her neck, kissing up the arch of her neck, up to her ear. If the tone were different, if they were at home and they could take their time, he would kiss every square inch of her. Start from her face and work his way down until she is covered in his love and devotion. For now, her neck and collar will have to do, as she raises her knees and draws him closer, deeper. He curls his fingers, and she arches, he swirls his thumb and she shudders, lip between her teeth. Every move he makes has an equally beautiful reaction and he is mesmerized by her.   
When she cums, he kisses her soft, working her through it, kissing her always.  
When she nudges his hand away, he reaches for toilet paper to clean himself up.  
“Damn.” She sighs, straightening out her bottom half so she’s more comfortable, looking at him with a smirk. “Nice job. A solid 7/10.” He feigns a look of hurt, before raising his hand, her own meeting his in a high five. “I would have given it at least an eight, but we haven’t stood up yet, so we won’t really know until then.”   
She lets out a belly laugh at that, and the world goes from a hazy mess of hormones to the hazy mess of being tipsy, and tired. She stands first, hands going for the sink for an extra wash, and to pat down her cheeks. It takes longer for wirt, pushing her pants and underwear back up his legs, getting up with only half the grace Sara had. They’ve been here for at the very least, 20 minutes. He counts himself lucky that no one has knocked.   
“Boundary check: How do we feel?” Sara asks and she wears the water on her hand on her dress. There’s not a single hand towel. Or any towel really.   
“Good,” He answers, quick. This was a routine they had taken up for most of their relationship. It was a suggestion from Wirt’s therapist, and even after they had gone steady and knew each other's limits, it had become a habit. “I’m glad we moved positions, I’m not good with having most of the attention.” He admits, almost sheepish.  
But she is right there to catch him. “I figured. I’m glad you had a good time.”  
“And you?”  
“Green across the board. We should do this again sometime.” And perhaps they would, but if they ever did, he hoped that it was in a cleaner bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> If you can guess what fic inspired the referenced high school party, you're a baller and we should be friends.


End file.
